


but everytime i see you my heart sinks

by FanaticismForWords



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amy Santiago Loves Jake Peralta, F/M, Happy Ending, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 14:08:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17899568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanaticismForWords/pseuds/FanaticismForWords
Summary: Amy Santiago flipped the page on her binder, wrote ‘No dating cops’ laminated and highlighted it before calling it a day.She knew it was a bad idea.





	but everytime i see you my heart sinks

She knows it was a bad idea the minute she said it. Hell, she should have known it was a bad idea the second she thought it.

But after the mess that was Teddy Wells, the awkwardness that was Detective Dave Majors, and after the acceptance of her feelings for Jacob Peralta (the feelings that seem to unfairly grow every time he smiles and makes her laugh) Amy Santiago flipped the page on her binder, wrote _‘No dating cops’_ laminated and highlighted it before calling it a day.

In all fairness, she was under the impression that Peralta had grown out of his crush (she moped around for a few days after the Maple Inn incident and incorrectly blamed it on the break up). He had moved on with Sophia and she had convinced herself that his lingering glances and his obsession to make her laugh had no other motive besides friendship.

Her reasoning for his odd behaviour and her confidence in her new rule flies out the window after she is hit with a poorly executed Jamaican accent and an equally poor confession.

And so she panics.

Panic is putting it lightly, to be honest. Her heart feels as if it is about to beat out of her chest and her brain cannot come up with a coherent thought.

And so when he tells her that he’s aware that it ( _it_ being dating him) isn’t what she wants, she goes along with it, admonishes him for making it weird and congratulating herself when they both agree to _not_ make it weird.  

Regardless, she knows it was a bad idea the minute she said it.

But she convinces herself otherwise as they take the undercover mission. When Jake looks at her with soft awe as she pecks (sloppily) his cheek. When they take a seat across the room from Augustine in perfect view when he heads to the kitchen where Rosa lurks and informs them that he’s yet to drop off the briefcase. When they catch the Chinese buyer with ease (the man has no awareness of his surroundings) and one threat from Rosa has him testifying (Amy suspects she did more than threaten but there is no way she’s going to ask).

She convinces herself that she made the right decision as she goes home to her apartment, changes into an old Academy hoodie and unsuccessfully tries to find sleep. She pushes down the guilt for making him think that his feelings weren’t reciprocated and the hollow feeling of another chance being blown away. She convinces herself that it would be too awkward if she and Jake don't work out and that she’d rather keep him as a friend (her best if she’s being honest with herself) than losing it all for a potential relationship.

The next day she arrives at the precinct and everything is normal. Terry is typing away at his computer, Rosa is sharpening some knives, Gina is on her cell phone, Charles is probably in the break room concocting some disgusting meal and Jake is late.

It's only when her boisterous partner’s desk remains empty for the next hour that she asks Sarge about his whereabouts; Peralta is late, but he’s never this late.

“He and Charles went out for a case twenty minutes before you came in,” Terry replies before resuming the report he was typing up.

She’s shocked for a moment before brushing off its significance. So what if Peralta is early for once? It's only a coincidence that today happens to be the day after she shut down any prospect of a _them_ happening.

When he returns several hours later, he walks past both their desks to head to the briefing room, presumably to put together the board and solve the case. Amy doesn’t think too much into the fact that he typically would have cracked a joke, or insulted her and instead chalks it up to the fierce determination she knows Jake has when he’s assigned on a case.

It becomes hard to ignore the obvious change the next few days. Especially when Jake stops joking around with her almost every five minutes giving her no opportunity to complain about his distractions preventing her paperwork from being anything but perfect. When he’s no longer texting her every night and sending her (infuriatingly adorable and butterfly inducing) snaps of him performing mundane tasks in a crazy way only Jake Peralta can accomplish.

And maybe it's selfish of her (because it's probably her fault) but he no longer actively tries to get her attention, and his eyes no longer linger on her for a fraction (or more) of a second longer than it should.

It drives her insane to a point where she walks into work ready to give him a lecture of a lifetime and stops halfway to her desk when she spots a steaming cup of coffee waiting for her and Jacob Peralta inquisitively looking at her, wondering why she froze in the middle of the bullpen.

Then,

“Guys! Santiago just got turned on by walking into the bullpen. Please refrain from speaking about the filing that needs to be done in case she explosively combusts from all the dirty talk.”

She should be pissed. She knows. He just insulted her in front of the Captain and several employees but she can't tamper down the feeling of relief at the familiar look in her eyes. The look before _romantic-stylez_ and _it really bummed me out, man._

( _She convinces herself that it isn’t loss she feels. She convinces herself that going back to the way they were before Jake left for his undercover mission is what she wants_ )

And then things go back to normal. He teases her every so often, she replies back with a jibe equal in bite, they solve cases together, and life goes on.

It doesn’t matter that she gets a pang in her chest every time they’re at Shaw’s and someone flirts with him (it helps that he pays no attention to them but rather makes his way over to Rosa to challenge her to a game of pool). It doesn’t matter that she gets a serious case of butterflies every time he buys her coffee or cracks a joke to make her laugh after a particularly bad day.

It does matter until Rosa corners her in the filing room one day.

“What’s up with you and Jake?”

She panics for a split second before spluttering out a hasty response, “Nothing. What’s going on with _you_ and Jake?”

For her effectiveness when undercover, she truly sucks a lying.

“You like him.” Rosa states simply, and there is a brief flash of discomfort that flashes in her eyes; the discomfort that Amy prays she’ll act upon.

She doesn’t and goes for the kill, “You should tell him.”

She says it as if it's as simple as that. As if she didn't trample over his heart three times (probably more) already. As if she didn't effectively shut down any chance of a romantic relationship between them a month ago.

She takes a leap of blind faith, praying that Rosa won’t tell (oblivious of the fact that a tiny little part of her _wants_ Rosa to tell), closes her eyes and whispers, “I can't.”

Rosa sighs, “Look Santiago, he’s already confessed three times.”

Amy’s eyes shoot open at that. She didn't know Jake told Rosa. She’s aware that they were in the academy together but she supposes she underestimated the extent of their friendship.

Rosa continues, “And knowing Jake, there isn’t going to be a third. He’s persuasive when he wants to but he’s not going to pester you for a relationship when you keep telling him you don't want one. He respects you too much for that.”

The words hit her. Mostly because she knows how true they are. Partly because it wasn’t something she considered prior to her conversation with Rosa who is no longer in the room.

Jake, no matter how immature or annoying, is one of the best people she knows. He respects women and as a result, is not going to try and push her into a relationship he thinks she doesn’t want. The thought should relieve her but instead, it gives her a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. The idea that Jake has just given up unjustly angers her momentarily before she is reminded that she was the one who gave up first, and what Jake is doing is being a decent human being.

She walks back into the bullpen, genuinely unsure of what to do. She hasn’t been this confused since choosing between cop and art history and it's unsettling because Amy Santiago does not get this worked up over a guy.

She sits at her desk and takes a moment to study her partner. He’s just received a homicide a few hours ago, a homicide that this precinct shares with the Ninety-seventh and he’s completely engrossed in it.

Captain Holt comes out of his desk and Amy kicks Jake’s leg to tell him to look up.

Holt, who has commanded everyone’s attention the moment he walked into the bullpen (one of the many reasons she holds the utmost respect for him) speaks, “I'm informing all of you that the detective assigned to Peralta’s homicide from the nine-seven is on the way.”

Jake, who was never a fan of teamwork tries to protest, “But Sir—“

Holt holds up his hand and stops him, “Don't be a child Detective. Detective Drake almost has more case wins than you and Santiago combined. You can use the help.”

She’s already impressed. Between her and Jake, they have a pretty high score; almost the best in the NYPD. This Detective Drake must be a catch to work with and by the expression on Jake’s face, he seems to think the same.

He stands up, “Fine. But if he turns out to be some cocky asshole, you can bet that I’m going to make his life a living hell.”

And he stomps away, probably to refill his cup of coffee.

Holt sighs before requesting, “The Detective is on the way up and I would like all of you to be as welcoming as you can.”

With that, the squad, with the absence of Jake and Gina, line up in front of the elevator as it opens and Detective Drake walks in.

Amy vaguely registers Rosa’s low whistle and Hitchcock’s _‘damn’_ and she may not be as verbal in her opinion, but it’s very much the same.

The Detective is dressed casually, almost like Peralta, with jeans tucked into boots and a green bomber jacket over a black top.

 _She_ has long straight, dark hair pulled up in a ponytail, her chestnut highlights doing nothing but emphasizing her dark blue eyes and fair skin. If Detective Drake didn't decide to be a cop, she would have done spectacularly in the modelling business.

She smiles immediately as she spots them, it's warm and kind and genuine and whatever concerns she once had about the other cop assigned to Peralta’s case dissipates as the woman addresses all of them,

“You didn't have to greet me. It's nice though.”

Captain Holt steps forward, “Detective Drake, Captain Holt. I formally welcome you to our precinct. Sergeant Jeffords here will brief you on the case that you will be working with one of our best detectives.”

She perks up at the prospect of working the case, “Cool! I read the file on the way here. This murder is going to be dope. Oh, and you can just call me Vanessa”

The vernacular is so familiar; it causes Amy’s brows to scrunch in amusement and fondness that she chooses to ignore.

“Hey Cap’n do you know—” Jake walks into the room at the moment and all eyes turn to him. It's one of the things that Amy had hated about him when she first joined; his ability to command a room just by being himself. It's funny how this trait along with several others that she had thought she disliked were now were things that she admired about her partner.

Her partner who has just dropped his case files and is staring open-mouthed at the newly arrived Detective.

“Nessa,” He breathes in shock and now all eyes pierce the newly arrived Detective, who’s in the same state of shock.

“No way. Jacob Peralta.”

And with that, Jake lets out a huge burst of a laugh and the next thing Amy knows is that Vanessa is running towards Jake as he easily captures her in a bear hug and lifts her slightly off the ground.

Her stomach drops and twists and turns and she wonders if anyone else can hear her awfully loud gulp.

“Oh my gawsh. I really missed you. I cannot believe you’re here.” Vanessa says when they pull away.

“You missed _me._ Gurl, I spend like a good year trying to find you. Where did you go?” Jake replies.

“Undercover. Two years. Romano family.”

“No way! Samzies!”

Captain Holt clears his throat and asks the question that everyone but Gina is dying to ask, “I'm sorry, you two know each other already?”

Jake answers, wrapping Vanessa in a sideways bear-hug, “We were best friends in highschool thanks to our mutual love of Die Hard and wanting to be a cop. She moved to California a few years later and we tried to keep in touch but it was too hard.”

Vanessa pulls out of his embrace before announcing very loudly, “Did you read the case file?”

Jake answers with equal fervour, “Ho-mo-cide!”

They both high-five each other at the same time while shouting, “Dope!”

The Captain clears his throat, once more commanding everyone’s attention and orders everyone back to their work before telling Peralta and Drake that the brief room is empty for their investigation.

Minutes later Amy is at her desk trying to type up her report but unable to move past the first line since the last three minutes. She prides herself for being able to type up the fastest reports in perfect condition and standards but her eyes seem to constantly drift off to the energetic newcomer who is currently engrossed in a conversation with Gina( _who she obviously also knows)_ twirling a pen in her hands and slightly bouncing on her heels.

“You alright Santiago,” Jake’s voice breaks her out of her creepy staring and she flicks her eyes to her partner who somehow made it to his desk unbeknownst to her.

She makes a mental note of yet another thing that has changed since last month; her name. She must admit that she liked it (more than liked it) when Jake used to call her by her first name. She presumes that calling her _Santiago_ establishes a professional barrier and she had convinced herself that she was happy that he wasn’t making it weird.

Jake follows her gaze to Vanessa and a wide smile breaks out, “She’s the best. I can't wait to introduce you. You’re gonna love her.”

He’s bursting with energy as if he cannot contain the extreme amount inside of him and it's so _Jake_ that underneath this awful constricting ball in her stomach (that she convinces herself isn’t jealousy) she feels a burst of affection.

“Peralta, break room,” Terry says, effectively breaking whatever moment they had before Jake gets up and walks away with purpose and excitement.

Walks away to Vanessa.

 

 

 

The entire squad is gathered at the window of the brief room, has been for the past few minutes now. The door to the room is open but no sound comes out; as it has been ever since Jake and Vanessa walked in and forgot to close it.

“What on earth is going on here?” The Captain’s voice causes Amy to whirl around in fear that she might have disappointed her superior officer and ready to apologize if necessary.

Charles shushes him rather harshly before whispering, “They walked into the room, quietly assembled the board, and they’ve stared at this thing in silence for the past five minutes throwing the rubber ball back and forth.”

He’s correct of course. Vanessa and Jake have been in the briefing room for almost fifteen minutes now. They’re both leaned against a desk, postures almost identical, and methodically tossing Jake’s rubber band ball between each other without missing a beat. It's weird to think that they’ve just reunited after a long separation because they look like they’ve been doing this for _years_.

( _She supposes she’s getting pretty good at ignoring this constricting ball of something in her stomach, spreading to her chest. She’s been good at ignoring it ever since Sophia Perez came into the picture and even after she left)_

Finally, after what seems like forever and a bit, Vanessa breaks the silence, “So there were only four people present inside the bank during the murder.”

Jake continues for her, “The manager, an employee and two civilians.”

“Catharine Stulford was helping Miguel D’Souza complete a last-minute transaction”

“While Janveer Phillips was shutting down the monitors and Jessica Austin withdrew 200 from her account across from his desk,” Jake concludes.

Vanessa turns to Jake, “They have no connection to the security guard. No connection means no motive.”

Jake fills in the rest of the blanks, “One of the four was with the other of the four during the time of the murder. Their alibis are each other and it fits.”

If it weren’t for the murder of an innocent security guard, the way the rubber ball crashes to the ground and bursts into a thousand colourful bands as the two Detectives straighten up and look at each other with matching looks of excitement on their faces would have been a comical sight that begged to be filmed.

Vanessa jumps up and down in the air in a way that Amy has only seen one other person do when solving a case, “Their alibis are each other!”

Jake is bursting with energy as he pieces the puzzle, “They’re all guilty!”

“Stulford disabled the cameras while Austin murdered the guard. But what’s the motive?”

It's an agonizing five seconds of silence. It feels as though the whole precinct is tense with anticipation and the hairs on Amy’s neck stand up straight as the puzzles start to piece together in her own head.

“Money!”

This time, Jake and Vanessa scream in sync, the sound resonating throughout the entire floor, causing Hitchcock to spill his coffee.

At this point Jake is bouncing on his toes as he solves the remnants of the case, “Phillips is the manager of the bank. He has access to the vault’s code.”

Vanessa matches his fast-paced ramble, “D’Souza took the cash, and by the time the seventy-eight came in the next day to investigate, Phillips had erased all records of the missing cash.”

They’re out of breath at this point and the ball in Amy’s stomach forms into a pit in where her heart now falls.

Because Jacob and Vanessa have ceased their exited movements and now stand absolutely still, staring at each other with dopey grins and twinkling eyes.

They’re snapped out of the moment when the Captain walks into the brief room and shoos them away, giving them enough time to snatch their badges from Jake’s desk and hastily throw it over their necks.

_Because of course, they wear their badges the same way. Why wouldn’t they?_

But Amy returns to her desk and focuses everything she has into typing up this report. As if it will somehow fix all her life problems. As if it will take her back to _romantic-stylez,_ or _You liked me back,_ or _I was planning on asking you out_ so she can take all the chances she had.

And by the time the report is finished (arguably her best work) and she’s handed the file in to a pondering Terry, waves a sympathetic Rosa and an indifferent Gina goodbye, trying too hard not to linger on the empty space on her partner’s chair, she’s gone back to the familiar practice of convincing herself.

Convincing herself that Jacob Peralta is her best and favourite (not that she’ll ever admit it outside of her head) partner and that seeing him work so effortlessly and eloquently with Drake had made her a little insecure of their _professional partnership._ Convinces herself that this conversation with Diaz has gotten her more than a little rattled, had surfaced _past_ (she convinces herself that it was all in the past) feelings. She convinces herself that she’s in a great position with Jake right now; they trust each other and they have each other’s backs and that’s really all that matters.

She convinces herself that _No dating cops_ is the best thing that she can do for her future because she has a plan set out in order to make Captain and _imagine making Captain and having to face a bunch of ex-boyfriends._

And by the time her first alarm rings the next morning, she’s got the mantra ‘ _This is what I want’_ etched so firmly in her head, that for the first time in weeks, she walks into the precinct with a wide smile on her face fuelled by the scent of paperwork and filing.

Her day gets better when she’s assigned to a kickass B&E and she and Rosa are called into the office of Jonas Bailey, New York’s very own engineering billionaire, with an empire big enough to dazzle a celebrity.

The case, thanks to the several cameras and the stupidity of the thief, is closed relatively quickly, and the only job Amy is left with is tracking down the stolen items, which happen to be prototypes made by Bailey to create medical advancement. It's during events like these where Amy momentarily loses hope in humanity because who could possibly be cold-hearted enough to rob someone of the chance to save a daughter, mother, or lover.

Her CI tells her that there is a good chance of the thief selling the prototypes at the docks and she’s about to tell Rosa to get ready for a stakeout except that she finds her fellow Detective making plans with her boyfriend for dinner. There is a smile on her face and it's so rare that when Rosa asks her if anything came up, she shakes her head in negative and almost facepalms into the door trying to run away.

She surveys her options when she reaches the bullpen; Charles will either force her to make a pit stop at some restaurant that serves dog liver and she’ll spend all of tomorrow puking her guts out, the Sarge will have to leave soon to tuck his daughters to bed and she is not going to deprive him of that, there’s no way she’ll survive a stakeout with the Captain and that leaves Jake.

He’s distracted with one of his police figurines, moving the arms and legs one way and then the other and the report he was supposed to finish hours ago remains halfway done on his monitor. He looks up as if he can feel her stare ( _maybe he can. She knows that his stare burns her like a pair of molten rocks)_ and upon spotting her his, face breaks into a goofy grin.

She drops the case file, complete with the evidence and inputs from the CI, on his desk, “Stakeout? Won’t be more than three hours.”

Apparently thrilled at the prospect of leaving his report (sometimes she has a hard time imagining what it would be like to be him) he gets up from his chair and follows her into the elevator humming a rendition of a Taylor Swift song under his breath all the way into the car.

It's normal. She relishes in the normalcy of Jake choosing some over-the-top pop song, rolling down the windows and singing his heart and lungs out in between mouthfuls of sugar packed gummies he produced from his pocket. She smiles at the typical Jake-ness as he whines and complains about the lighting, the temperature, and location.

And for the first time in a very long time, after her cheeks have finished aching after a particularly hilarious joke at the expense of Scully, Amy believes that she is going to be alright. She believes that this is how it's supposed to be and she (after so long of convincing herself to) believes that she’ll be okay with just being Jake Peralta’s friend.

The Bluetooth connected device rings, and the car blasts with an oddly loud song that Amy fails to recognize and she glares at her partner who looks smug, “Jake, when did you even connect your phone?”

He gives her a lopsided grin before answering the call.

“Did I ever mention that you were my favourite person in the whole wide world,” It's his form of a greeting and it immediately spikes her curiosity as to who is on the other side of the line.

The voice is familiar and it's as if someone threw a bucket of ice water on her.

“Is that supposed to excuse the Cheeto crumbs on my couch?” Vanessa’s voice holds no malice, just humour and affection and Amy can feel her smile drop.

Jake doesn’t notice.

“How about I make it up to you. I'm on a stakeout but I can come over with a double cheese pizza and Die Hard.”

Vanessa’s laugh is just as pretty as she is, “Is that supposed to be you making it up to me?”

“Double cheese pizza, Die Hard, and a foot massage.”

“Deal.”

“Deal”

The call ends, and Jake burrows himself into Amy’s passenger seat, zipping up his leather jacket to avoid the harsh cold and Amy is left with her wild thoughts and sinking stomach.

 _(_ she’ll later go home and convince herself that it has nothing to do with Jake)

The car is filled with a comfortable silence, the kind that Amy usually appreciates when on stakeouts with her man-child of a partner, but she’s too busy bursting with curiosity.

“So. Vanessa.” Her attempt to steer the conversation is admittedly pathetic, but Jake either doesn’t notice or ignores it.

He shrugs, but anyone can see the obvious excitement in his eyes, “We’re catching up. Starting from where we left off. She was, is, important to me ya know. There isn’t anyone else in the world that has every single Die Hard line memorized right down to the gunshots and can out eat me in gummy worms.”

“Are you two—”

She glances away briefly and thanks God that she did.

“Jake, that’s him!”

They get out of the car and follow the perp, who walked into an empty house with a creaky door that made Jake’s face light up like a Christmas tree. He’s always been one for theatrics and she’s always secretly worried that one day it might get him hurt.

They work like a well-oiled machine. Amy would like to say that it was something that she had created a binder to accomplish; ‘How to Be The Best Partnered Detectives with Jake Peralta’ would have had eighteen tabs and a whole library worth of information on how they should collaborate to be the best.

But the truth is, that they’ve somehow managed to work easily off of each other since the very beginning, even when the only thing between them was childish remarks and a fierce need to outdo each other. When they were in the field, they always managed to ease into a routine that makes it look like they’ve been doing it for years.

It's this partnership that helps Amy catch the perp with ease; Jake running to the back entrance and Amy jumping through the first-floor window to corner the jerk who tried to deprive sick human beings of the chance to recover. She brings him in and locks him up in the holding cell, scheduling a text to Mr. Bailey telling him to come down to the station to give his statement before returning to the bullpen.

It takes her a second to heave in a breath to get rid of the prickling sensation in her chest when she sees that Jake’s desk is empty, and remembers the plans she overheard tonight.

(She convinces herself that she’s gotten used to his teasing remarks as she left the precinct followed by the genuine “ _See you tomorrow Santiago”_ )

She walks into the precinct the next morning, unable to even make eye contact with her partner, and heads straight to the interrogation room where Jonas Bailey awaits.

She along with Gina (who was adamant on joining because “ _There is no way someone that fine should have to endure several moments with Ally alone”_ ) ask him questions about the perp, the items stolen, and the company and at the end she has compiled a list long enough to write a report that fits her standards.

Gina, not one for subtlety, asks questions of her own, “So, are you like, dating right now.”

Amy sends a panicked look at the man in front of her, but he just laughs good-heartedly, “Just proposed a week ago.”

Gina sighs, but it's obvious she doesn’t mean it, “Damn. Why are all the good ones gone? I'm like the only one left of our kind.”

Mr. Bailey ( _Jonas. He told her to call him Jonas)_ gives Gina the typical flabbergasted look everyone gives Gina when they meet her. Amy gets him to sign his papers, before handing him the prototype and watching him walk through the bullpen to the elevators.

It leaves Amy with nothing to do and no one to go to in order to avoid her partner, who, judging from the concerned look he’s giving her, has noticed her persistence in avoiding her desk and _him._

“Hey Santiago, mind giving me a hand with this report.” Rosa pulls out a chair for her beside her desk and Amy rushes towards it, never more thankful for her fellow Detective more than she is today.

However, her blood goes cold and her heart falls when all she sees when opening the folder is a blank piece of paper with Diaz’s curly cursive in red ink, ‘ _You owe me one’._

She gets up from her seat and rushes away into the printing room, laminating and printing and filing before repeating the steps. She goes down for a coffee run for the entire squad despite the dent in her pocket and sends the drinks up with Charles after a fellow officer calls her for help with a case.

She spends the rest of the day with the Captain, answering his beguiling questions with awkwardly phrased answers that he doesn’t seem to mind hearing while actively avoiding Jake’s sad stare every time she walks to her desk to grab something and refuses to look into his eyes. He looks like a kicked puppy, and eventually, by the time they’re set to leave, his sadness morphs into hurt and her heart claws when he walks away without even trying to say goodbye, telling Charles that he won’t make it for drinks tomorrow because he’s having dinner with Vanessa.

She doesn’t break until she gets home, toes of her shoes into their designated corner, hangs her coat on the hook and places her bag on the coffee table. She’s lucky she lasted this long considering the couple of months she had.

Wiping the tears from her eyes, she opens her desk drawer and finds the familiar blue binder, flipping to the last page and reading the highlighted words over and over again, trying to find its purpose.

_No dating cops._

The purpose of the rule was so that things don't get awkward at work, so that there isn’t anything deterring her progress to Captain, so that she can preserve her friendship with Jake, so that she’ll still _have_ Jake as a friend if not anything else.

But Rosa’s note, that goddamn note, indicates that _she_ was the one making things awkward. _She_ was the one acting like a complete idiot. _She_ was the one ruining this.

Jake had respected her wishes. Jake was nothing but professional. _Jake had moved on._

He moved on.

From her.

_And she had feelings for him. She’s always had feelings for him._

And after weeks, no months, of trying to get rid of these feelings. After months of pretending, to be okay with what she had.

After months of constantly lying to herself and _convincing_ herself of everything but the fact (it's a fact. She’s never been more sure of anything in her life) that she has hopelessly fallen for her partner; her kind, funny, amazing partner who always knows what to say and has had her back for the past eight years, she’s done.

She wants to scream, to shout and cry and vent. _God,_ she wants to vent. She’s been cooping her emotions for so long, and she really needs to talk to someone, to tell someone.

Which is how she ends up on the floor of her bedroom, phone in her hands scrolling through her contacts to find someone suitable to talk to, someone who’ll understand.

_Kylie, Rosa, Manny, Mom, Jake._

Her thumb hovers over his name, a smile involuntarily pulling at her lips at the contact photo of him hugging a Die Hard poster during a movie marathon they had three years ago. She scrolls down through his profile and isn’t sure why she’s shocked at the number of times she’s called him; never less than three times a day, never less than an hour per call.

She’s never ever really believed in sudden euphoric epiphanies; they were always portrayed in media in a way that seemed too fictional and unrealistic. But no other words can describe the moment she’s having, this weight (partial weight) that’s been lifted off her chest.

Because Jacob Peralta has always been there for her.

When it was her first week at the nine-nine and she was stressed about her very first case he brought her a cup of coffee and drove her to her old partner for a pep talk.

When she had her first red ball and he brought her food every day, reminded her to sleep, and organized her desk for her.

When her boyfriend broke up with her and he came over to her apartment and spent the whole night watching Property Brothers while eating tubs of ice cream.

Even when there was the bet looming over them, even when she was dating Teddy and he was dating Sophia, he was always there for her. Even when she shut him down three times, he was still there for her, making her smile, solving her cases. He was always there.

He will always be there.

She is never going to lose Jake Peralta.

She doesn’t remember much of what happens next, the events go by in a blur but the next thing she knows is that she’s standing in front of the door to what used to be Gina’s apartment and freaking out.

Jake, being Jake, doesn’t even give her time to do that properly because the second she decides that her courage can only give her so much and begins to walk ( _walk, sprint. Potato, Potato)_ away from the apartment door, it opens and Jake is standing there, his eyes widening at the sight of her.

She winces internally, remembering that in her haste to get to him, she neglected to change her clothes or fix herself up a bit so now she stands here in front of him in the wrinkled outfit she wore to work, her hair loose from her bun, raw and vulnerable.

“Amy,” He doesn’t even notice the slip, but she does, and it's been so long since he called her something other than Detective Santiago, or Santiago, or Ms. Posh or whatever ridiculous name he comes up with, that it gets rid of other weight on her chest.

“I was about to come over to your place,” He admits, looking at her with those eyes. _Those goddamn eyes._ It reminds her of _romantic-stylez,_ and _I wanted to ask you out._ It reminds her of everything she lost, all the chances he had.

“You were?”

He smiles cautiously, his eyes guarded and wary, “Yeah,”

He looks so unsure and sad and so _perfect_ that a dam breaks in a normally composed, proper Amy Santiago.

“Look Amy, I'm not sure if I did something or if...”

“I like you!” She blurts out.

And for good measure, in case he didn't get the hint she adds, “Romantic styles.”

His eyes widen and he would have looked so picture worthy funny if this weren’t of importance. If her whole heart wasn’t the line.

He still doesn’t say anything so Amy cautiously stutters through with an explanation, because he deserves one.

“I know that I've been all over the place these past few months, and I've said no so many times, but I have feelings for you, I always had feelings for but I was scared. _God,_ I was so scared. So I get it if you don't want to...”

The next thing she knows is that her back is hitting the wall of the building and Jake’s hands are cupping her chin and her fists are in his hair and _he’s kissing her_ and it's so soft and so slow and so, so, sweet and she should have known that Jake Peralta was a good kisser.

The kiss ends too soon when he pulls away because oxygen gets in the way but he rests his head against hers and it feels so right, so perfect, so unreal and it's so scary that it's only been a second but she cannot remember a time before this. The other Amy, the Amy that wasted her life convincing herself of lies, seems like a faraway memory who said no when she wanted to say yes, hid around her feelings, burned in jealousy when Vanessa came.

“Oh my God! Vanessa!” She jumps away as if someone had shocked her.

Jake looks genuinely confused, “What?”

“Vanessa. What about Vanessa?”

“What about her?”

Amy stares at him for a moment, trying to figure out if he’s being serious. Jake Peralta may be messy and cocky and may not own any real books, but he is faithful and loyal and those were two things she’s known since the moment she met him.

Still, she has to ask, “Aren’t you two...you know.”

He laughs, reeling back to hold his hands over his stomach at the sheer absurdity of the situation, “No, no, no. We’re not...she’s engaged Ames.”

She not sure whether to focus heavily on the fact that Vanessa, the women who initiated (initiated is too big of a word, she simply lit a spark) her whole spiral is engaged to someone who is _not_ Jake or the fact that she’s just been upgraded from Amy to Ames and she’s never liked a nickname more.

Regardless of the reason, she surges up to meet his lips because she’s never been this happy before and honestly, his kisses are kind of addicting. Not that she’ll ever tell him.

This time, they both pull apart at the same time and Amy wonders how ridiculous this whole thing is.

He’s wearing an old faded out NYPD shirt with jeans, while she’s in a pantsuit that looks like it's seen better days and they’re both holding each other grinning dopily from ear to ear in the middle of the apartment hallway.

Eventually, Jake tugs her closer to him, intertwining their fingers and she doesn’t even bother analyzing the reasons why it seems so normal, so ordinary (she’ll never analyze why it feels anything but). 

“I know that we need to talk and we will, but were you actually jealous of me?”

She rolls her eyes and the world feels right once again, “Shut up.”

They walk into work the next morning, Jake ten minutes after Amy, trying to conceal the fact that she woke up with her head on his shoulder on the couch and the TV still playing reruns of Jeopardy. She heads straight for the coffee machine trying to suppress her twitching lips and instead roll her eyes when Jake dramatically greets her with a “Wassap, Grandma.”

When she returns, Vanessa is sitting on the edge of Jake’s desk, swinging her legs violently, and Amy feels grateful for the engagement ring that she recently discovered hangs around her neck because there would be no way she would have ever been able to hate the Detective, not when she reminds her so much of Jake.

She seats herself at her desk, ignoring Jake’s wiggling eyebrows (an obvious reference to her jealousy) and greets the woman, “Detective...I mean Vanessa.”

She smiles warmly, “Hey Santiago, nice one on the Bailey case.”

Before Amy can reply, Vanessa leans in and whispers softly enough so that no one else but them can hear, “And congrats on the get-together. I was thinking that it would never happen.”

Amy looks at Jake because they agreed to not tell anyone until they had time for themselves. Jake just looks at his friend in shock, “I never told...”

“Oh please. I have more arrests than you Peralta. Besides, all you ever talked about was her and today you came in looking like the day you learned that Jenny Gildenhorn broke up with her boyfriend.”

Amy sighs, “We’re too obvious.”

Jake, for all his talk of keeping things between them and not wanting Charles to know, (“ _He’ll burst into tears Ames. And then I’ll never hear the end of it”)_ doesn’t seem to care much. She finds her care slipping away as he gives her that soft smile reserved only for her.

Vanessa continues, “Anyway. I'm happy that the two of you are together. You actually helped me with something of my own.”

Their look of confusion turns into a proud smile (the proud part from Jake, Amy doesn’t know her that well yet) when Vanessa pulls her ring out of her necklace and slips it onto her finger, the diamonds (there are many) glinting under the lights.

“Oh, and my ride’s here. I’ll catch up with you guys soon.”

And the entire precinct, with the exception of Hitchcock and Scully, have the same look of bewilderment and shock as Vanessa Drake walks into Jonas Bailey’s open arms as they peck each other on their lips, his smile widening when he spots the ring on her finger. They interlace hands and walk away into the elevator, and the pieces start to fit together in Amy’s head.

_Vanessa and Jonas._

She looks up to Jake’s smug face. Jake, who knew that Amy was working with his friend’s fiancée the entire time.

But his eyes are shining and he looks as happy as she feels so she just smiles at him. A pure, genuine, happy smile.

 

Months later, she’ll smile that same smile as he goes through her binders one by one to find the picture she took of Vanessa at her wedding and instead finds her list, _no dating cops_ written neatly on the last page.

He’ll look at it at smirk, teasing her about breaking a rule and she’ll roll her eyes and throw a pillow at him, blissfully oblivious to the shining ring tucked away in his sock drawer.

She knew the rule was a bad idea anyway.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'Nervous' from Gavin James


End file.
